


Biological Imperative

by velvetglove



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alien Biology, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Pon Farr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-30
Updated: 2004-01-30
Packaged: 2018-10-29 22:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10862955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetglove/pseuds/velvetglove
Summary: Clarkreallyneeds a helping hand.





	Biological Imperative

Clark couldn't jerk off.

He'd been trying, of course. He'd gotten into a pretty regular habit over the last couple of years, stroking blissfully to mental images of Lana, Chloe, Brazilian supermodels, young Mrs. Baxter, the gum-chewing cashier at the Gas-N-Save... He'd always been told that fantasy was healthy, and that it didn't hurt anyone. Thing is, it was hurting someone now: himself. He'd wake up hard from dreams of a dogpile starring himself and the cast of a Victoria's Secret commercial, but when he reached for his cock, it stung.

There was no way he could have a venereal disease. He'd researched it: no STDs from masturbation. It was his own hand, after all, and he knew where it had been. So this was some alien thing, probably, and not the kind of alien thing he wanted to ask Jor-El about. He couldn't imagine how he'd phrase it— _Hey, Dad, why does my dick hurt when I touch it?_ No. Not going to happen. They just didn't have that kind of relationship.

Clark tried to ignore the situation, but even when he wasn't hard, his dick was tender. Of course, nothing could chafe his invulnerable skin, but sometimes the weave of his soft cotton boxers felt as rough as a cheese grater, and he'd shrink like a snail recoiling from sand.

There were occasional breaks in his misery, as sudden as spring rain and just as refreshing and short-lived. Proximity to Chloe relieved his pain, but closeness to Lana made it worse, as well as giving him an embarrassing itch. The guy across the aisle in chem lab, Brandon somebody, made the aching stop. Denise Butler not only made the pain go away, she made his dick hard and made him feel swoony and lightheaded, but she was wearing Kyle Sanders' letter jacket and was thus off limits.

Lana would come up the stairs to his loft, tentative and hopeful, and would always want to be close to him. "Let's give us another chance," she'd urge, but it was all Clark could do to not push her away—or shove his hand down his pants and scratch like a monkey.

On top of that, his dreams had been getting more intense. And he wasn't just dreaming about girls, to be honest, though he was able to keep the...non-girls out of his daydreams by being sternly vigilant, shutting mental doors (slamming them, as necessary; locking and throwing away keys). But when he was asleep, he had no control, and he was consequently bedeviled by abstract visions of cool white skin that tasted of cream and iron. Black kid hands that knew what they were doing, turning his flesh to syrup. A curved body behind his own, shaped to him but ambiguous. His vision would go silver, and he'd wake up sticky, blood ebbing from his cock and the hissing end of an exclamation fading on his tongue.

Clark had discovered early on that proximity to Lex had the most profound effect on his physiology. His heart would quicken, his blood would pound, and his cock would throb with pleasure in his friend's presence. He'd stopped spending so much time at the mansion because he was terrified Lex would figure out what his evasiveness, untucked shirts and glassy stare were hiding.

There had always been tension in their relationship. From the very first, Lex had been watching him intently, curious and doubting, and Clark had been flattered by the attention. He'd gone from a dorky nobody to an object of fascination over the course of just a few seconds, and sometimes that particular change in status seemed more important than the news about his extraterrestrial origins.

The nature of the tension between them had changed over time and, while he couldn't really describe it, Clark was fairly certain that it wasn't just about his "secrets" any more. Lex just seemed to like looking at him, and he wasn't ashamed to do it. When Clark walked into Lex's office, his friend would smile up into his face, and then his eyes would take a leisurely trip down Clark's body, usually reversing direction somewhere around the level of his knees. Lex would say, "Clark. What can I do for you?" and his eyes would slide up to meet Clark's again. Sometimes Clark would swear that he could feel Lex's eyes on his skin like a physical touch, as though his clothing had been torn away and there was nothing but air between them.

Clark saved deliveries to the mansion for last, always hoping that Lex would have time for him—and, somehow, Lex always did. So maybe it made sense that Lex, who'd always made him feel special, would be special to him, too, even if it was in a fucked-up and completely xenoperverted way.

~~~

The dick problem was getting serious. A month after first noticing the symptoms, Clark was in something bordering on agony while at school or doing chores. When he had time to himself, he'd taken to lying on the couch in his loft, pants off, one hand gripping the back of the couch and the other brushing the floor, to give his poor dick some respite from the painful pressure of cloth or accidental touches. He felt dangerously exposed but, so far, he hadn't had problems hearing his parents or visitors approach. Thanks to his speed he had always been able to get dressed in plenty of time (wincing as he buttoned his jeans).

It was a Wednesday, a nothing-special day. He'd drifted off, sprawled out in just a t-shirt and socks, his legs thrown wide, and was dreaming of nothing (pink, sparkly clouds and odd, multiangular buildings) when suddenly his visions became decidedly figurative and profoundly, delightfully sexual. Through this honey haze, a startled voice asked, "Clark?"

Clark awoke with a groan, arching his back to put his dick that much closer to the voice and the glowing pleasure associated with it. His eyes fluttered open to the sight of Lex standing at the foot of the couch, an expression both shocked and avid shaping his features. Again, he asked, "Clark?"

"Lex! Oh god, Lex! I can explain!" But when he tried to sit up, his stomach cramped and at the same time his balls tightened. A swell of fluid further slicked the head of his cock. Lex stared, his mouth slightly open.

"I'm...sorry," Clark said weakly.

"Clark, are you okay?" Lex was still staring at his cock. He was horrified, Clark decided. Obviously, Lex was transfixed with revulsion. Clark felt the movement of Lex's gaze like the brush of feathers against his skin, and he couldn't suppress a squirm. "You look like you're..." Lex didn't finish his sentence but took a step closer.

"There's something—weird—going on," Clark panted. "I—hurt." But he wasn't hurting now, or at least he wasn't hurting in a bad way, because this was Lex. "Except around some people."

"You're in pain?" Lex's brow furrowed with concern, and he took another step closer, crouching down so that they were on a level.

"Not now," Clark admitted. "You're one of those people." With Lex this close, close enough to smell, Clark felt just moments away from orgasm, but the sensation just went on and on and on, and it took all of his strength to keep from asking Lex to just please, please, please touch him.

"Should I get your parents?" Lex asked, his voice low and rough. He darted a glance at Clark's livid, drooling dick and licked his lips. "What can I do to help?"

Clark whimpered and turned his face away. His dick strained toward Lex and he had to fight to keep his hips still. "Don't—don't ask—Oh, god, Lex, I don't think you can help!" But then Lex laid cool, soothing fingers against Clark's arm and his touch was a balm, and an incentive for Clark's body to run completely riot, as he embarrassed himself thoroughly with an involuntary buck of his hips. A musky, blood-hot spurt of fluid came from the tip of his quivering dick and he could smell himself. Clark squeezed his eyes shut in mortification, waiting for Lex to stalk off in disgust.

Lex was silent a moment, but then he laid a calming hand over Clark's heart. "I can," he said. "I can help you, Clark, if you'll let me."

"No, please," Clark moaned. "You shouldn't..." Ignoring Clark's weak protest, Lex shrugged out of his coat and pulled his sweater over his head. Looking at Lex made things worse; so much beautiful, smooth white skin, freckles and the cinnamon pink of nipples. "You don't have to do this," Clark said shakily.

"I don't have to do anything," Lex reminded him. "I'm a Luthor. We always do what we want, right?" He smiled and touched Clark's face, and Clark shivered with the relief of contact. It felt so right, so perfect, so _meant_ , and all Lex was doing was petting his cheek and the line of his jaw but it was going to make Clark come. The sounds he made, familiar and forgettable when his were the only ears listening, were amplified by the simple fact of having an audience, and he was mortified by his own whimpers, the hitch in his breath, and the breathy, broken way he said Lex's name. But Lex didn't seem to hear anything shameful or dorky. Lex said, " _Clark_. I'm right here, Clark," and kissed him.

As Lex's tongue slid alongside his own, Clark's hips lifted into the air, seeking any contact. Lex's mouth was wet and soft and Clark wanted to feel it everywhere, over every inch of his skin, but only if they could keep kissing and kissing, too. Lex moaned, said Clark's name again, and Clark was so, so close. Lex's hands had been both tangled in Clark's hair, but the left one pulled free and skimmed over Clark's body, a shock against the feverish skin of Clark's inner thigh. Clark jerked and then melted, almost sobbing with the relief that came with the shift from torture to pleasure. He reached up, slid a hand around Lex's neck, and initiated a kiss of his own. Lex's hand stroked his hip, slid down the groove of his groin, skirting his balls and avoiding his cock entirely, and Clark started babbling, "Oh, god, Lex, I just need to come, need to come so bad, please, please..." Lex chuckled against Clark's throat and then wrapped his icy-burning fingers around Clark's shaft, lifting his head to watch.

Lex didn't even have to move. At the first touch, Clark's eyes rolled back in his head and he came and came and came. He arched up off the cushions and hung in the air, crying out wild and frantic, and jerked in Lex's hand. Lex said, "Jesus!" and sounded a little awed, but he hung on as Clark's cock emptied, soaking his t-shirt. When Clark finally collapsed, boneless, onto the couch, he felt as weak as a kitten and was more embarrassed than he'd ever been in his life.

"Oh, god." He closed his eyes, but when he opened them, Lex was still there. "Oh, god, Lex. I—I don't... I'm sorry."

Lex laughed, a sound not entirely happy. "Sorry about what?"

"Sorry you had to do that."

Lex laughed again, this time a bit more cheerful. "I already mentioned, I think, that I don't have to do anything. God, you're really amazing."

"Lex?"

"So fucking beautiful, Clark."

Lying back, panting at the rafters, Clark grinned. "Really?"

Lex shook his head and laughed. "What am I going to do with you? Jesus, Clark. Yes, really." He let Clark pull him down into an embrace. His voice muffled against Clark's neck, he said, "You realize I have a lot more questions now."

Clark took a shuddering breath. "Maybe I can answer some of them. I can try."

~~~

"I can't touch it," Clark said, voice hoarse.

"I can't hear you," Lex said. Clark could hear the sounds of the freeway and the crackle of the cell connection. "You're breaking up, Clark."

Clark cleared his throat and spoke up. "My cock," he said. "It's happening again. I can't touch it. It hurts."

"Again? But just last month—"

"Well, fuck, Lex! I'm sorry to inconvenience you—"

"Don't get pissy. I'm just surprised, is all. I'll be there soon, Clark. I’m sorry. I can't do anything about the traffic."

"I _need_ you, Lex."

Lex sighed. "Look, Clark... Look, I know you need me. I need you, too. But you'll just have to wait. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Your voice," Clark said. "It's so fucking sexy, Lex. I want you to...to tell me things. Tell--tell me what to do."

"Well, for one thing, calm down, Clark. I'm going to be there as soon as I can, and you getting upset isn't going to get me home any sooner."

"I need you to hurry!"

"Clark—" Lex sounded like he was counting to ten, just as he'd been taught in Anger Management. "I said, I'll be there as soon as I can. I want to see you, too." His voice softened then. "Why don't you get ready for me? Go lie on the couch like you did...like you did the first time."

"Like in the barn?" Clark's cock gave an anticipatory twitch.

Lex's voice was a little rough when he said, "Yeah, like in the barn." And then, "Hey, we're moving again. I've got to go. I'll see you soon, I promise." Clark heard the honking of car horns, and Lex hung up.

~~~

Lex tried to take his mind off of the traffic by thinking back to that first time—the time in the barn. Sweet boy in a white t-shirt and mismatched tube socks spread out on the couch, so hot, and so much better than even his wildest imaginings, that his first thought had been that he'd finally had a real psychotic break.

Clark had been asleep, dreaming, his cock curving back against his belly as he moaned fitfully. When he took a step closer, Clark, still sleeping, murmured Lex's name and his lashes had fluttered against flushed cheeks. Lex had gone instantly hard.

Later, Lex had been amazed to think that Clark had been worried that Lex somehow found him repulsive. Clark wasn't perfect--no one was perfect--but he was pretty damn close, and all the plaid flannel and awful haircuts in the world couldn't hide the fact that Clark was a truly amazing physical specimen.

Of course, at the time, Lex didn't realize that "specimen" wasn't a word to use when talking to or about Clark, no matter how complimentary the phrase.

~~~

After his epic orgasm, Clark had peeled the clammy shirt off his torso, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he tossed it aside. He shivered, so Lex asked, "Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?"

Clark shook his head. "No, I'm okay." He sat up and brought his knees to his chest. And kept shivering.

Lex later wished he hadn't hesitated at all, and really it had only been for a moment, but he'd nearly gone into shock at the realization that he'd he'd kissed Clark, and made him come, and Clark was still naked and needy. Clark wanted him. It was like his best dreams, but so much more intense—and so completely unexpected. Clark's shivering intensified, and Lex snapped back to reality. Clark. He looped an arm around Clark's shoulders and drew him close. "It's okay. Whatever you want," he assured him. "I'll do whatever you need me to do. You've got to know that by now."

Clark colored and looked up bashfully from below his eyelashes. "I know. You always help me." And then he'd turned and leaned into Lex's body, hiding his face against Lex's throat.

But he kept shaking and shaking. Was he crying?

"Clark?" Lex stroked his back, pressed kisses to his hairline, but Clark shook all the harder.

"I'm sorry." Clark's voice muffled against Lex's chest.

"Sorry for what? Clark, what's wrong?"

"It's—" Clark gasped, trying to calm his breathing. "It's not enough, Lex. I'm sorry. I need you to—" But the rest of his sentence was lost.

"Clark? What is it? I said anything, and I meant it."

Pushing Lex away, Clark pulled his knees up, exposing his ass, so bold but also tentative, as he begged. "Would you...would you fuck me? Please?" He almost sobbed then: "I don't even know... Just _please_ , Lex. I need you to do it."

He didn't even think, just put his fingers in Clark's mouth. "Suck them. Make them wet." Then, he put his fingers in Clark's ass. No question that he'd do it, fuck Clark. No question at all. Clark's muscles clenched and he threw his head back with a gasp. So sexy, so sexy that Lex had to lean forward and kiss his throat, lick the hard bump of his Adam's apple, slide his free arm under Clark's back and hold him while fucking him with two fingers, then three. It seemed so easy, in a way, so perfect. No hesitation on Clark's part, even though Lex knew he had to be a virgin. Lex twisted his fingers, put his wrist and elbow and all his strength into it, and Clark loved it, arching his back and moaning, a sexy hitch in his breath.

Lex was so excited that he fumbled his own button and zipper. He was so excited that he was afraid he'd come before he even pushed inside, but he managed to hold on, even after Clark blindly grabbed at him, catching his cock in a big hand and squeezing. With a wild groan, Clark curled in on himself, then splayed wide and open like a star, his cock spurting thickly, apparently just from touching Lex. It must have been the novelty, the shock that kept Lex from doing the same thing. Instead, he leaned in between Clark's bent knees and kissed him, slicking his fingers with the come on Clark's belly. He kept kissing him while sliding his wet fingers into Clark's ass. Hopefully, it would be enough. Lex was afraid that if he stopped to look for lube, Clark would change his mind. Besides, he didn't seem to _need_ it. Lex had to break the kiss, biting his lip in concentration while working the head of his cock into Clark's ass.

"Oh!" Clark looked so surprised that Lex had to laugh, but only until Clark's face refracted into something more serious, and then he kissed Clark more sweetly than he'd known he was capable of, and pushed until his hipbones pressed into the firm muscles of Clark's ass. Clark felt different inside than other men Lex had fucked. Slick, accommodating, and his body seemed to pull Lex in. Subtle differences, but differences nonetheless. Just another thing—another sexy, maddening thing—to add to the list. Clark wasn't in pain, but he seemed scared, shaking like a leaf, so Lex had to draw him close and calm him, keep him safe. So beautiful, so fucking beautiful, and Lex was a little afraid that he wouldn't be able to take much more than this.

Long strokes, intensely pleasurable, but Lex was never going to come after all. He was just going to do this forever, sliding deep and deeper into Clark, watching his pretty face go ugly, then goofy, opening like a gift. Clark was hard again, so Lex said, "Touch yourself."

Clark whimpered and shook his head. "I can't."

"Come on," Lex urged, kissing Clark tenderly. "For me. You can do it." He'd thought Clark was merely shy.

"I can't." Clark gasped sharply as Lex drove hard into him. "I—I can't." But he took hold of his cock anyway. Lex was startled by the deep spasms that squeezed his cock, but was even more surprised by the grimace of pain that shaped Clark's face.

"It really hurts you." Lex grabbed Clark's wrist. "Stop—let me do it." Fingertips barely met his thumb around the thick shaft; the idea that Clark might one day fuck him made him feel equal parts lust and dread. Clark's legs wrapped around Lex's waist and his head thrashed back and forth, his damp hair sticking to his sweaty brow.

"I need you," Clark gasped, "I need you to come in me, Lex. In me, please." Which coincided with a thought that maybe he shouldn't be barebacking his beautiful boy, sweet Clark, clean and just a few minutes unchaste, whose inner thighs clamped tense at his hips, hands locked over the small of his back. Maybe Clark could read his mind because he said, "You can't hurt me, Lex. Not in any usual way. Please, just fuck me as hard as you can."

And who was Lex to disobey such an edict? He leaned his forehead against Clark's, looked into his eyes, and drilled hard into him, looking for a vein of gold. It didn't take long, with Clark so pliant and hot, writhing in his arms. When Lex came, Clark threw his head back and screamed, coming again in a series of deep, broken spasms and surprising them both.

Breathless and flushed, Clark grew shy and refused to meet Lex's eyes, but he was smiling. He pulled Lex to lie on top of him like a human blanket. Arms wrapped tight over his back, Clark turned his face against the side of Lex's head and said, "I feel really good right now."

~~~

The car rolled forward another five or six feet and then stopped. There were sirens behind him, emergency vehicles trying to get through. If he'd asked, Clark would have simply come and fetched him, picking up the entire car and carrying it back to the garage with Lex inside. But he didn't ask, because even when Clark didn't care about his cover, Lex did.

The AI had explained the mating urge to them some years back. Like humans, Kryptonians were capable of interacting sexually whenever they chose, but they could only conceive or impregnate when both parties were cycling hot and heavy. Clark would go into a sort of heat a few times a year, during which he experienced pain when he tried to masturbate; his biology wanted him to seek a partner.

"It's inconvenient," Clark told the AI. "And, obviously, neither one of us is going to get pregnant. Can't we do something about this?"

"Not so fast," Lex said, accepting a glass of truly amazing synthetic scotch from a robotic arm. "Is it really so terrible for you? Because, frankly, I _like_ your needy phases, Clark."

"You _like_ them?" Clark whirled to face Lex, his cape spiraling around his torso with the force of his movement. "You _like_ it when I go crazy and beg you to touch my cock?" And then he realized what he was saying and blushed. "Yeah. You do."

"Of course I do." Lex chuckled and swirled the scotch in its glass. "Wouldn't you like it if the same thing happened to me?"

"Maybe," Clark admitted. "But it makes me feel...I don't know. Like an animal, I guess. Out of control."

"Do you hate it?" Lex asked.

"Not really hate," Clark conceded. "It just feels kind of... _dirty_."

Lex laughed again and shook his head. "Again, you're not saying anything that convinces me I want to be rid of it."

"What did they do, anyway?" Clark asked, turning in the direction of the AI's voice. "When it happened. How did they explain it? And what if you fell in love with someone who never synched up with you?"

The AI sounded as confused as it could. "Explain it? But it was understood, Kal-El. It was a common experience, and it was considered a sign of maturity. And as for synchronicity, there were fertility experts who could be consulted in such events. But for couples such as you and Lex-Luthor, where conception was not a concern, issues of synchronicity were moot."

"Or were even part of the attraction," Lex murmured, looking away when Clark glared at him.

~~~

Clark lay back on the sofa and tried to calm his breathing. He listened for Lex's car and he'd hear it, any minute now, picking out the one from the thousands of cars rolling through downtown Metropolis. Once he'd found it, he'd follow it into the parking garage. Lex would set the parking brake, turn off the engine, and walk across the garage to the elevator. Clark would know how Lex felt about Clark's needy state by the space in his step, and while that would affect Clark's already-frayed mood, it ultimately wouldn't matter because Lex would fuck him. Even if it was out of pity, Clark would take it. He needed it, would beg if he had to, but Lex almost never made him beg. Almost never.

Hard and getting harder by the minute, Clark shifted on the sofa, sticking a little to the leather upholstery. Thick and sore, heavy and throbbing. Lex would touch him and it would be better, so much better. Lex would fuck him and he'd be able to relax. He had to patrol tonight, but he couldn't bear to fly while he was in this state, and he wouldn't think about that because it was impossible. Everything would have to wait until Lex had fucked him.

He'd tried breathing exercises, biofeedback, even chanting, but the only thing that really worked was Lex: hands, breath, spit, and his voice like liquid velvet in Clark's ear as he fucked him until Clark had had enough.

He had a moment, electrified tension deliciously tight in his belly, but the engine sound he heard wasn't _Lex_ ; it was the guy in the penthouse across the street, who seemed to be in some sort of unspoken competition with Lex to see who could drive the most exotic vehicle. Clark whimpered. Each thump of his heart sent a painful pulse through his flesh.

Finally, he heard the motor, he heard Lex. The elevator seemed to take an hour to travel up to the sixty-third floor. Lex's heartbeat was quick, his step light and eager. Clark nearly sobbed with relief. He heard Lex open the front door.

"Clark?"

Clark bit his lip and waited, shivering. Like in the barn. He closed his eyes, though he couldn't stop his lids from fluttering; he wanted to see Lex come in, wanted to see Lex's face when he saw Clark all spread out and waiting for him.

He could feel Lex in the open door, feel Lex's eyes on him.

"Clark?"

Clark let his eyes open. Lex stood in the doorway, his coat still in his hand, looking every bit as transfixed as he had the first time. "Clark."

"Lex, please," Clark said, because he knew how much Lex liked it when Clark would plead. And it still embarrassed him a little to do so, be so wanton, but he let his legs fall wide and arched his back. "Please."

Lex dropped his coat and moved into the room with a slinky sway of hips. "Are you okay, Clark? Do you need my help?"

Clark swallowed hard. "I do, Lex. I need your help." He tilted his head, following as Lex circled the couch. "Please, Lex. Help me."

Lex leaned over the back of the couch and put a hand on Clark's upraised knee. Clark jerked and let his breath out with a sigh. "I'll help you, Clark. Don't I always help you?"

Clark agreed readily. "You do. Always. You're so good to me, Lex." Lex's hand stroked his thigh, petting, and the touch made Clark's skin tingle, but Lex's touch was chaste and unhurried. Clark tried to move into the touch for more contact, but Lex withdrew his hand. Clark couldn't help his whimper.

Lex came around to stand at the end of the couch, at Clark's feet. "Take off your shirt," Lex murmured. "I want to see your skin."

Clark sat up enough to pull his shirt off, wincing at the sudden squeeze in his balls with the movement. Just like in the barn, he reminded himself. And Lex would make it worthwhile. When Clark lay back on the cushions, he could see by Lex's expression that he liked what he saw. "So beautiful," Lex remarked. He rested a knee on the arm of the sofa and leaned out over Clark, his right arm along the couch back. Lex's left hand dropped to Clark's chest, five points of soothing liquid chill making Clark gasp.

"Please," Clark whimpered. "Lex, I need—"

"Shh..." Lex let his fingers trail down Clark's belly, then back up again to his breastbone. "I know what you need." Stroking, just the slight, stirring movements of his fingers making Clark's cock jump and spurt, the smell of his own arousal strong. "Just relax, Clark. Let me take care of you." Clark closed his eyes, lids fluttering. Lex slid down off the arm of the couch to kneel between Clark's legs and Clark moaned at the seasick lurch of the cushions beneath his back.

Voice low and almost wistful, Lex said, "You're so pretty, Clark," and touched his face. With a needy little grunt, Clark turned his face against Lex's palm and kissed it. Lex rubbed his lower lip with the pad of his thumb, and Clark obligingly parted his lips, tongue tip tracing the edge of the thumbnail. "Suck it," Lex said. "Suck it like it was my cock." Clark could feel Lex's eyes on his face, and it made him blush, but he did as Lex asked. Lex made a satisfied noise, a kind of purr. The taste of Lex's flesh, salt and soap and a hint of leather and ink, made Clark's cock even harder; it throbbed as though the head might burst. Lex must have seen it in his face because he crooned, "Does it hurt, Clark? Poor baby." And then he took his thumb away and kissed Clark roughly.

The movement of Lex's tongue alongside his own, fucking into his mouth, made Clark cry out, high-pitched and urgent. Lex pulled his lips away and smiled. Long fingers knotted in Clark's hair, pulling his head back. Lex placed a precise kiss on Clark's throat, not lingering. "Poor baby," Lex said again. He pushed away from the couch and stood looking down at Clark, then began unbuttoning his shirt.

Lex didn't always make him wait like this. He wanted Lex inside him. He wanted Lex's hand on his cock. "Please," Clark begged. "I need you."

"You want me to fuck you, don't you?" Lex asked, maddeningly smug because, of course, he knew that was _exactly_ what Clark wanted, and he even knew exactly how Clark wanted it, but he was going to draw this out and Clark hated him for it. Or loved him. Both, maybe. Lex smiled to himself and slipped his shirt off his shoulders. And then he shook it out, brushed it off, and laid it carefully over the back of the armchair placed perpendicular to the couch.

"You know I do," Clark said crankily. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch Lex kneel down to untie his shoes. "I'm dying here, Lex."

"You won't die," Lex said, still so fucking smug. "The AI promises that this can't actually hurt you. It's normal. You can take it."

"Physically _maybe_. It might make me crazy," Clark snapped, which was kind of mean, because he knew how much Lex hated references to mental instability, even after all these years. "Being teased to the point of insensibility is _abuse_."

Lex just gave him a quick, sideways glance and a smile, then went back to his laces.

"Did you double-knot them?" Clark demanded. "What's the hold-up?"

Lex ignored him, removed the shoes, and then stood. He held out a hand. "Come on, Clark."

"Where are we going?"

"I want you in the bed."

Clark's irritation decreased fractionally. He took Lex's hand. "You want me."

"I want you," Lex agreed. "Amazing, beautiful creature. Of course I want you."

He knew it, but it was always nice to hear. Placated, Clark let himself be led to the bedroom, only slightly hobbled by the bone-deep ache in his groin.

One evening a few years ago, a helicopter had hovered outside the windows, a film crew taping a few seconds of their lovemaking. Lex had ruined some careers over that one, and had all the windows replaced with mirrored glass, and they rarely pulled the curtains. When Lex pushed Clark back on the bed, Clark could look up at the first stars, the last of the sun. Lex finished undressing and crawled between Clark's thighs.

Clark always loved Lex's touch, Lex's skin on his skin, but when he was like this, so insistently attuned to Lex, he felt Lex's hands like streams of water, refreshing and sometimes shocking, against the hot sands of his body. Lex pushed Clark's thighs further apart and said, "Hold onto the headboard."

Solid steel bars, sandblasted to temper that "institutional chic" look that gave Lex literal nightmares. Clark gripped the bars and arched his back, silently urging Lex to please, please, please touch him.

Lex was breathing on him, twin puffs of air from his nostrils and the occasional huff from open lips, cool burning against Clark's skin. Lex paused over Clark's right nipple and said, "Calm down," before swiping at the hard bead of flesh with his tongue. Clark howled and arched up off the bed, hanging tense in the air above the sheet.

Lex must have felt sorry for him, because he put his hands on Clark's hips and nuzzled his belly. "Poor baby," he soothed. "Oh, Clark. See how hard you've made me?" And when Clark lifted his head, he _did_ see, see under the skin, how the blood pushed harder and hotter, and saw how the tension made the head of Lex's cock slick. Clark let his head and whole body fall back on the sheets, making a strangled sound.

"Please?" he said weakly. "Fuck, Lex. Just please let me come."

"The headboard," Lex reminded him gently. Clark had forgotten himself once when he was like this, only once, but he had dislocated Lex's shoulder before he'd remembered himself again.

As Clark's hands gripped the rails, Lex curled over his hips and took hold of Clark's cock with his left hand. In years past, that alone would have made Clark come, but he'd learned better control over time. Instead, he just began moaning, a thin, fearful sound that Lex assured him was sexy as hell. Lex rubbed his cheek along Clark's shaft, over the head, and turned to kiss the damp skin. Swipe of tongue, rough like velvet. Clark let out a strangled scream and screwed his eyes shut to keep from sending Lex's wenge wood paneling up in flames. When Lex began to suck in earnest, his mouth tight and cheeks hollow, Clark came quickly, almost incidentally, his body curling around Lex's head. Each subsequent lap of Lex's tongue was like a jab, almost painful. Clark ached, yearning. "Please fuck me." He petted Lex's scalp with shaky hands. "I'll do anything!" he promised.

Lex sat back, smiling, and began to unbuckle his belt.

~~~

At Lex's request, they'd made a special trip to ask the AI about anatomy. After some vague pleasantries (which were really for their benefit; the AI needed no such ramping up to conversational topics) Lex cleared his throat and asked, "Is there anything I need to know about Clark's...about Clark's ass?"

"Are there difficulties, Lex-Luthor?"

"No, not at all," Lex assured it. "And that's what I'm curious about. Because if Clark were human, well..."

"We'd need more lube," Clark said bluntly. "And I wouldn't be so accommodating." He seemed terribly unhappy. "I wouldn't be such a freak."

Lex looked contrite. "Clark. I'm sorry. I didn't think. I don't want you to feel like a freak."

"Well, I am one," Clark pouted.

"Christ, Clark! I just want to be sure I'm not hurting you! If you'd rather do this alone, I'll leave."

"I don't want to do it at all," Clark said. "You're the one with all the questions. You’re the one fascinated with my ass."

"Clark." Lex smiled and put a hand against Clark's cheek. "You're right. I _am_ fascinated with your ass. I love you. I want to know all about you that I can."

The three little words were still new enough to Clark—to both of them—that they carried a great deal of weight, and went a long way toward cheering Clark up.

The AI had apparently been waiting for an appropriate shift in the emotional tone of their conversation to share information. "Kal-El's body has evolved so that he may fully enjoy sexual activity with any partner of his choosing."

"Any partner of his choosing," Lex said. "So, not just females."

"No." As usual, when faced with what the AI clearly thought was a stupid question or remark it became terse.

"His ass is made to be fucked." Lex continued, as Clark reddened.

"If that is what Kal-El wishes," the AI agreed.

~~~

Not as wet as a woman, but wetter than any human male could expect to be without lube. Clark on his knees, down on his elbows with his ass in the air. Tight, clutching heat around Lex's fingers, drawing him in. Clark's frantic screams of pleasure sounding a little like panic, a little bit frightened. He got like this when it was close, when he knew Lex would fuck him imminently.

Lex bent his neck and licked at the skin where it was tight around his knuckles. Clark screamed Lex's name and pushed back onto his hand. Lex himself was at a point where he was a little worried he'd come too quickly, take away from Clark's experience. The longer he could spend inside Clark's body, the better Clark would feel in the aftermath.

Rubbing the head of his cock against Clark's ass, sliding in the cleft, letting it just nudge against the tight opening. He held himself steady and let Clark push back and start the thrust. Clark would always do it faster and harder than Lex could bring himself to do, and it felt rough and sexy, a little bit mean. "Fuck me," Clark hissed, arching back to take more. "Hard, Lex! Please!"

Lex ran his hand up Clark's side, from the muscular concavity in the side of his ass, up over the hipbone, the incurve of his waist. Golden, sun-warm skin with the taste of copper. Lex bent down over Clark's back and kissed his shoulder, the bunched muscles along his spine. Clark's breathing was rough beneath Lex's cheek. "Harder," he begged again. "As hard as you can."

Still, Lex took his time. Easy thrusts, Clark squirming and snorting in frustration. "Let me do it," Lex reminded him. "I've got a plan." Clark whimpered, an exceptionally undignified whine, but he stopped his impatient thrashing. Lex leaned back, hands on Clark's hips, his cock barely inside Clark's body, and admired him. The most powerful creature in the universe quivering on hands and knees, at his mercy. Over the years, his desire to conquer had mellowed. Clark's submission wasn't a symbol of anything; it was just Clark, needing and trusting him.

Short, sharp thrusts, with the taste of Clark's skin still in his mouth, Clark's body pulling him in deeper, Clark's voice pleading and gasping. Reaching around to take hold of Clark's cock, feeling it flex thick in his hand. Wet head sliding over his palm, through the tight ring of thumb and fingers, and a corresponding clench of Clark's ass around Lex's cock. Clark's voice rough and breathless as he said, "Oh, _fuck_! Lex!"

Longer thrusts, slamming deep. Clark's ass tight and slick and hot; Clark wracked with greedy spasms with each thrust inside. "Come for me," Lex urged. "Right now, Clark. Do it!"

Such a good boy. Clark's head dropped and then snapped back with a harsh groan, and Lex felt the cock in his hand jerk, then melt. Hot spurts of semen spattered Lex's fist, Clark's own chest. Clark's whimpers tapered off as Lex released his cock, slowing his movements. When Clark's breathing slowed a little, he began begging again. "Lex, please, I can't take any more."

"You can." Lex ran his hand from the back of Clark's neck to his ass, then up again. "You can. You love this."

"It hurts," Clark whimpered, not really complaining. He twisted his hips back against Lex's, a counterpoint to Lex's slow thrusts.

"It doesn't hurt," Lex insisted. "It's going to make you come so hard, Clark..." Lex wrapped his fingers in Clark's hair, pulling him along as he settled back on his heels, Clark straddling his lap. Clark's full weight on his thighs, the full press of Clark's body around his cock, made Lex groan a little. Lex's left hand slipped from Clark's chest to his belly, then the half-hard flesh of his cock. "Now _you're_ going to fuck _me_ ," Lex whispered. "You're going to make me come, and you'll feel so good..."

Clark clearly liked the idea, responding with a strangled growl. His cock stiffened a little in Lex's fist, and he lifted a few inches off of Lex's lap before sinking down deeper. "That's right," Lex encouraged. "Ride me." The words made Clark shudder. With a murmured curse, Clark began to move, the only sound their breath and the slap of flesh.

Bones shifting under the skin, thick pad of muscle, sweat standing in beads that coalesced into rivulets that slid down the long, straight line of Clark's spine. Lex pushed his nose into Clark's curls, the damp skin behind his ear, and licked him. Clark let his head fall back against Lex's shoulder. "Not much longer," Lex whispered. "God, Clark, you feel so good!" Lex felt Clark's cock surge in his hand, blood tight under the skin, and he felt a corresponding rush in his own flesh, loud in his ears. Clark's reached back with both hands, fingers tight against the back of Lex's hips, and ground himself down into Lex's lap.

There was only so much that Lex could take. Clark naked, Clark begging, Clark hot and tight and needy. He could only make Clark come so many times before his body decided it had had enough and insisted on an orgasm of its own...which he was about. To. Have. Fuck.

Hands on Clark's hips, crushing grip. "Clark!" Driving into him, punishing pressure against his own bones. "Oh _fuck_ —Clark!" Pushing his hips up, pushing Clark _down_  and letting his forehead rest against the smooth golden plane of Clark's shoulder blade while his cock emptied into Clark's body, filling him with soul and sparks. After the first pulse, at the first burst of semen inside Clark's ass, Clark came again, dry and only half-hard, with a blood-curdling scream.

Lex slumped sideways and pulled Clark with him. He spooned Clark as close as he could, not wanting to break contact until absolutely necessary. Clark breathed loud and ragged, wheezing a little to keep from crying. "So intense," he murmured, trying to cover for his emotionality.

"It's okay," Lex reassured him, knowing it was so much better than okay and kissing the back of his neck. "I love you, Clark. I love that I can help you like this."

"Only you," Clark whispered in return, and Lex knew that was what Clark believed with all his heart. Sleepy and contented, Clark made himself as small as he could, curling back into Lex's body with a satisfied wriggle. And even though it probably wasn't true, the idea that Lex was the only one for Clark was the single issue Lex was actually in no hurry to take up with the AI.

After all, if it made Clark feel better to think they were meant to be together, who was Lex to say otherwise? It wasn't exactly the worst interpretation of their situation that Lex could come up with. If it made Clark feel better, Lex was all for it.

Besides, he rather liked the idea himself.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for isagel.
> 
> At the time this was written, I'd been complaining to LJ friends of lubeless fucks and "mangina" in non-alien stories, but since they're totally appropriate in alien stories, I used both here. But no MPREG. I draw the line at MPREG.


End file.
